


Hope

by enomis57



Category: Half-Blood Prince - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, I love Remus Lupin, Missing Scene, Tonks is only eluded to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 06:50:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12648354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enomis57/pseuds/enomis57
Summary: Christmas at the Burrow - Remus and Ron have an unexpected heart to heart about, well, their hearts.





	Hope

Ron threw his pillow in disgust as yet another low moan was heard from Harry’s side of the room; as if he didn’t have enough to deal with already. Harry once more muttered something incoherent before emitting an embarrassingly, unsettling moan. Ron sat up, glaring at his best friend. The day’s events had left him unusually sleepless that night. First, there had been his Christmas present from Lavender, then his wayward brother’s unexpected arrival, not to mention the Minister of Magic dropping in for a little chat with Harry. All those events had worked together to keep him wide awake along with another looming issue that had haunted him all day, since his brief, yet monumental, chat with Harry that morning. Another moan and this time Ron was on his feet and heading towards the door. He had to get out of there before he became too privy to Harry’s current dream. He had a horrible gut feeling that if he happened to learn whom else was participating in what was obviously a very satisfying dream that he might have to hurt Harry, and hurt him badly. Then where would the fate of the entire Wizarding World be?   
  
He shot Harry one last glare as he closed the door silently behind him. Now, where? It was the middle of the night. He was usually dead to the world at this time. His stomach gave a low growl, deciding his destination for him. There was bound to be Christmas left overs somewhere in the kitchen.   
  
He made his way carefully down the stairs, the last thing he needed to do was wake the rest of the household – especially his mother. What he needed was a bit of space and a bit of time to try and sort out his thoughts. In particular, that one train of thought that he had not been able to shake all day. He half wished he had never plucked up the courage to ask Harry about …   
  
He froze in the doorway of the kitchen, his hand resting in the middle of the half open door and his foot hovering inches from the floor. The kitchen was not empty, as he had expected it to be. A loan figure sat on the far side of the table, illuminated by the fire still burning in the grate. Head cradled in his hands, and half a bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey sitting beside an empty glass in front of him. Ron turned to silently retreat, cringing as the floor creaked under his shifting weight. The bent head rose at the sound and Ron’s chest clenched as his eyes met those of Remus Lupin. He knew that look. He had seen it in his own eyes before, especially over the last few months. It was the lost, haunted look that spoke of complete despair. The kind of look that meant he needed to be left alone; needed to be given space, space to fight the demons that were obviously tormenting within.   
  
“Sorry, I’ll just-”   
  
“No,” Lupin interrupted softly, waving his hand for Ron to enter the kitchen.   
  
Ron searched Lupin’s eyes for an answer to whether or not he should stay. The slightly bloodshot eyes gave nothing away. Professor Lupin was not the easiest person to read at the best of times. Again, Lupin gestured for Ron to enter the room.   
  
“Ron, please,” his voice sounded slightly hoarse, as if he had been fighting his emotions.   
  
“I just wanted to get something to eat,” Ron said, gesturing vaguely towards the pantry.   
  
“Go ahead,” Remus replied, giving Ron a half smile that did not quite reach his eyes. He reached for the bottle of whiskey as Ron entered the pantry and began rummaging for a snack. After a few minutes of hunting Ron returned to the kitchen with his bounty, eyeing Lupin uncertainly as the older man took a sip from his glass. Again, he struggled with whether or not he should leave now that his mission was complete. The idea of going back to his room and having to endure more unsavoury sounds arising from Harry’s bed was not a welcome one. Remus looked up at him and raised an eyebrow questioningly.   
  
“I’ll, um,” Ron stammered, looking between the table and the door. “I’ll just, ah…”   
  
“Take a seat, Ron,” Lupin said, exasperation sounding slightly in his words. “I won’t bite.”   
  
Ron stared at his former professor in horror. Did he think? How could he?   
  
“I didn’t think you would!” Ron said, hurriedly.   
  
Lupin laughed. It sounded oddly hollow to Ron, but he was relieved to hear it all the same.   
  
“Please, Ron, sit down.”   
  
Ron acquiesced and sat opposite Lupin, spilling his spoils on the table in front of him. He picked up a fruit mince tart and bit into it, closing his eyes as he savoured the taste. He opened them again to find Lupin watching him, a hint of amusement lighting his eyes. It was a marked improvement on the look that Ron had encountered on first entering the room. Realising that he should be sharing his treats, he motioned for Remus to help himself to the bundle of food in front of him. Lupin surveyed the goodies for a second before reaching out and taking a tart himself.   
  
“Your mother should go into business,” he said, before taking a bite. Ron nodded in agreement, aware that he probably shouldn’t speak with his mouth full. Hermione would love that her constant nagging was starting to pay off. Hermione. He felt the weight of his previous discontent begin to sink in again. The distraction of Professor Lupin and acquiring his little snack had taken his mind momentarily off her. He gave a small sigh as he stared forlornly at his half eaten tart, all feeling of hunger suddenly leaving him. The small sound must have drawn Lupin’s attention, as Ron felt his gaze resting on him. He reframed from shifting uncomfortably, suddenly aware of a need to unburden himself to someone, anyone.   
  
“So,” Lupin began softly, “what has kept you up to the wee hours of the morning?”   
  
Ron glanced up quickly, before focusing again on the small pile of crumbs in front of him. Amazing how fascinating crumbs were.   
  
“It’s unlike you to be up so late. You usually sleep like the dead, from what I’ve heard.”   
  
Ron fought the urge to spill his whole sorry soul right there and then. Professor Lupin was a bit older, more experienced, and even more favourably not related in any way, shape, or form. Maybe he’d have some helpful advice on how Ron could get out of the dire situation he currently found himself in.   
  
“It’s been an unusual day,” he finally admitted.   
  
“That it has,” Lupin said, taking another sip from his glass and popping the remainder of the tart in his mouth. He chewed slowly as he continued to watch Ron.   
  
“Yeah, seeing Percy like that,” Ron said, hearing the bitterness in his voice at the thought of his brother’s sudden arrival in his parents’ house. “It was just-”   
  
“Hurtful?”   
  
“Yeah,” Ron agreed, finally meeting Lupin gaze. “It was hurtful. It was hurtful to see how little he cared about Mum’s feelings. She was so crushed…” he trailed off as he felt a lump begin to grow in his throat. He had wanted to throttle Percy for hurting their mother yet again. Molly Weasley, the woman who loved more unconditionally than anyone else he knew. Sure, she was a bit smothering at times, but he wouldn’t swap her love for anything in the world. Once more the crumbs became unusually fascinating as he blinked rapidly.   
  
Professor Lupin sighed, and Ron was startled when he heard a small clunk on the table in front of him. He glanced up to find a second glass now resting in front of his snack pile. It seemed to have appeared out of thin air.   
  
“I think,” Lupin said, with half a smile as he lifted the whiskey bottle and began to fill Ron’s glass, “you deserve one of these.”   
  
Ron watched, mouth slightly agape as he watched the warm, tawny liquid slosh into the glass. Him? Firewhiskey? He looked up at Professor Lupin in disbelief.   
  
“Just promise me one thing,” Lupin said, meeting Ron’s stunned gaze with a serious one of his own.   
  
“What?”   
  
“Promise me you will never tell Molly that I gave her underage son Firewhiskey.”   
  
Ron nodded quickly, his eyes falling back to the half filled glass.   
  
“Drink up,” Lupin said encouragingly, raising his own glass in salute before taking his own sip of whiskey.   
  
Ron hesitated momentarily before reaching out and taking hold of the glass. His first ever taste of Firewhiskey! He always thought he would be sharing this moment with Harry and Hermione. Well, maybe not Hermione, but definitely Harry. He took a shaky breath before raising the cup to his lips.   
  
“Slowly,” Remus cautioned, as Ron tipped a small amount of liquid into his mouth and swallowed. He fought off a cough, as his eyes instantly watered, the liquid burning the back of his throat.   
  
“Alright there, Ron?” Lupin asked, smirking slightly.   
  
Ron nodded his head and coughed as he felt a warm glow begin to spread through his veins. He put the glass down on the table once more, eyeing it cautiously, which earned a bark of laughter from Professor Lupin.   
  
“If only Sirius was here to see this,” he chuckled, wiping his eyes. “Remus Lupin leading Molly Weasley’s youngest son off the beaten track with a bottle of his finest Firewhiskey!”   
  
Ron half smiled, as he imagined Sirius’ response to Lupin’s actions, imagining the glint of glee and fiendish laugh.   
  
“She’d go spare if she knew what we were up to,” he said, somewhat gleefully.   
  
“That she would,” conceded Lupin, once more saluting Ron with his glass and taking another sip. “You look like a man who needed a bit of Firewhiskey magic though.”   
  
Ron nodded, and took another small sip of amber liquid, this time preparing himself for the affects. It still burned his throat, but the warm glow was growing steadier and more comforting. He grinned up at Professor Lupin, noticing the amusement in his eyes. It was such a stark contrast to the look that had been present when he had first entered the room.   
  
“So, what should we drink to then?” Lupin asked.   
  
Ron considered his glass for a moment, before lifting it in salute.   
  
“To wayward brothers,” he said confidently.   
  
“May they realise the error of their ways,” Lupin added, as he raised his glass to meet Ron’s. Ron nodded before taking a small sip, closing his eyes for a moment as the liquid burned its way down his throat.   
  
“There is always hope that he will see the error of his ways, Ron,” Lupin said, softly. Ron nodded, but could not bring himself to meet the gaze he felt levelled at him.   
  
“We can always hope he does,” he muttered, not trusting himself to say any more.   
  
“So, was Percy the only thing keeping you awake tonight?” Lupin asked, sounding remarkably casual. Ron eyed him suspiciously; unsure of whether or not he had guessed the truth.   
  
“Harry as well,” Ron said without thinking, remembering the horrifying moans that had finally sent him from his room.   
  
“Harry?” Lupin asked, frowning slightly in concern.   
  
Ron realised his error and thought quickly to remedy it somehow.   
  
“Harry and Scrimgeour,” he grabbed onto, thankful for a brief moment that the Minister of Magic had popped in so unrepentantly.   
  
“Ah, yes, our estimable Minister of Magic,” Remus murmured, sarcasm lacing his words.   
  
“It’s not every day your best friend has a falling out with the Minister of Magic in your own backyard,” Ron said, glumly.   
  
“No, it isn’t,” Remus replied, straightening in his seat as he raised his glass once more. “To the Minister of Magic.”   
  
“May he realise the error of his ways,” Ron saluted back with a grin, earning a chuckle from Remus before they both drank their toast.   
  
Ron once more clunked his glass back on to the table, feeling much lighter and happier than he had upon entering the room. This drink really was magic. Ron fought back a giggle as he glanced up at Lupin who was in the process of filling their nearly empty glasses.   
  
“There is always hope that he will see the error of his ways,” Ron choked out before allowing the suppressed giggle to burst forth. Lupin snorted and slopped some of the fabulous magic whiskey onto the table.   
  
“Oops,” he said, grinning wickedly at Ron before vanishing away the whiskey from the table. “Can’t risk your mother finding that in the morning now, can we?”   
  
“No we can’t,” Ron replied, trying to gain some semblance of seriousness as he reached for another tart. This had been a brilliant idea, coming down here to have a snack. It really was helping matters swimmingly.   
  
Ron watched as the light from the fire played on his glass of whiskey. It was hypnotic. The gentle crackle of the fire, the cosiness of the room, and the warmth of the Firewhiskey spreading through his veins, all added to the comfort of the companionable silence that had fallen between him and Professor Lupin. The kind of companionable silence he had not experienced for a long time, not since he and Hermione had stopped spending time together. His brow furrowed as once more he was forced to face the other dilemma in his life. The dilemma of finally admitting to himself that he was in a relationship with someone he barely knew, whilst fancying someone who knew him better than anyone. Lavender’s gaudy gift had shaken him into an uncomfortable reality – she did not know him and he did not know her. If he was going to admit the whole truth, he had no real desire to get to know her either. Harry had summed it up perfectly for him. Lavender had been his way of proving to himself, and possibly to others, that he was snoggable. It had been extremely satisfying and exciting to begin with, but now he longed for that elusive relationship he’d had for so many years with Hermione. Hearing she had not taken up with McLaggen, as he had feared, had lit a small spark of hope in his heart that it was not a lost cause. He just had no idea how to go about rectifying the situation.   
  
He glanced up to find Lupin contemplating his own glass, a small frown playing about his lips. Professor Lupin was a bit older and more experienced in these matters. He would have had to have faced and dealt with complex emotional issues, which meant he could be the perfect sounding board. Lupin knew Hermione; he might have some idea of how Ron could begin rebuilding their shattered relationship. It was worth a try.   
  
He took a quick sip of whiskey as he straightened in his seat, determination pulsing through his veins. The movement must have caught Lupin’s notice because he glanced up at Ron, his attention once more returning from wherever it had previously been wandering.   
  
“Professor Lupin?” Ron said, breaking the companionable silence.   
  
“Please, Ron, call me Remus,” he said, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.   
  
“Remus,” Ron corrected, the name sounding odd coming from his lips. He allowed his eyes to drop to the swirling liquid before he continued. “What would you do, hypothetically speaking of course, if you had in an insane moment of self righteous anger, hurt someone you really cared about and now the possibility of any reconciliation seems extremely slim…” Ron’s voice trailed off as his gaze rose to meet Lupin’s.   
  
Remus had frozen, his glass hovering inches above the table, and Ron was pretty sure that his former professor had actually stopped breathing. Ron felt the fingers of panic begin to grip him as he saw the haunted look of pain, that he had first encountered upon entering the kitchen, return to Lupin’s eyes. Ron cleared his throat, trying to calm his nerves, unsure of what he should do. The sound seemed to pull the older man out of his trance and his eyes again focused on Ron.   
  
“Hypothetically speaking?” Lupin’s voice was hoarse with emotion.   
  
“Yes,” Ron answered quickly, watching in confusion as Lupin flinched slightly. “Well,” he found himself admitting in the face of Professor Lupin’s seeming horror, “not entirely hypothetical.”   
  
“Not entirely,” Remus echoed, the same hoarse tone in his voice.   
  
Ron’s browed wrinkled in confusion as he watched Lupin’s reaction to his words. Why had the effected him so much?   
  
“Well, no,” Ron answered, uncertain of whether or not he should continue with the conversation, seeing how it had affected Professor Lupin so badly. “It never is hypothetical is it?”   
  
Ron watched, as Professor Lupin seemed to regain control over his emotions and straighten in his chair. His scrubbed his face with his hands as if he was trying to clear his thoughts, before he dropped them onto the table and met Ron’s befuddled gaze once more. Lupin took a deep breath and frowned slightly, as if he was replaying the past few moments over again.   
  
“So this non-hypothetical situation?” Lupin finally said, shaking his head slightly as if clearing some lingering thoughts of his own. “It involves you, obviously,” Lupin gestured vaguely at Ron, “and…”   
  
“Hermione,” Ron answered automatically, unaware of what he was saying due to his lingering concern over Professor Lupin’s unusual lack of composure. He had always seemed so in control of himself, as if he had some kind of wall protecting him from others around him.   
  
Lupin’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at Ron’s admission. His surprise finally seemed to be the trigger that once more allowed him to regain his composure.   
  
“What?” Ron’s own attention now refocused on the conversation at hand, and his heart struggled with either sinking at his admission or rejoicing that he had finally admitted it to someone.   
  
“This un-hypothetical situation involving you and Hermione,” Lupin prompted.   
  
“Ah, that,” Ron muttered, feeling his ears begin their telltale flush of embarrassment. He took his glass and finished the dregs that remained, willing them to give him the courage to continue, Lupin’s gaze was on him unwavering.   
  
“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Remus said, softly. “I know it is hard to talk about these things.”   
  
“No,” Ron answered, a bit too quickly, not wanting his chance to finally talk to someone about the current state of his relationship, or more correctly his state of non-relationship, with Hermione. “I want to,” he paused momentarily. “No. I need to talk about it.”   
  
Remus smiled at him softly, a sense of understanding seemed to radiate from him, giving Ron the courage to allow himself to continue.   
  
“So, talk.”   
  
“Well,” Ron started, taking a deep breath, “to cut a rather long and ugly story short, my famous Weasley pride and temper got the better of me. Now I’m in a relationship with someone I barely know, while the one person who knows me better than anyone else refuses to be in the same room as me if she can help it, let alone talk to me.”   
  
“Ah,” sighed Lupin, once more going through the motions of replenishing their glasses with Firewhiskey. “Yes, pride and anger are never a good combination. Be thankful you are learning such a valuable lesson at a young age, Ron.”   
  
“I don’t know if I’ve learned anything,” Ron replied in exasperation. “All I know is that I’m with a girl who thinks I would like nothing more than to parade around in public with the words “My Sweetheart” hanging around my neck. Worse still, I’ve come to the realisation that I don’t know her either, and to be honest I’m not sure I’m all that keen in getting to know her.”   
  
He grimaced, daring to meet Lupin’s gaze once more. Instead of seeing condemnation in his eyes, he was met with a slight smile and Remus shook his head in sympathy.   
  
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Ron. We all make bad decisions throughout life,” Remus paused, a shadow of pain flitting behind his eyes before he continued. “It is whether or not we allow ourselves to learn from them which is the important thing. Admitting our mistakes is the first step in the process.”   
  
Ron nodded, a sense of relief filling him as he waited for Lupin to continue. Lupin watched him in silence for a moment, smiling softly as he read the question evident on Ron’s face.   
  
“Now the hard part comes,” he continued, laughing softy as Ron’s eyebrows flew up in shock.   
  
“The hard part?” Ron stuttered. “You mean the hard part hasn’t even happened yet?”   
  
“Afraid not.”   
  
“I’m not sure I want to know what the hard part is.”   
  
“Well, Ron, that part I can’t answer for you. That part is up to you.”   
  
Ron’s browed wrinkled in confusion. This was meant to be helping him, not confusing him.   
  
“You, I’m afraid to say, are the only one who can find the solution to this dilemma, Ron. No one else can do it for you.”   
  
Ron sighed in defeat and lowered his head to his hands.   
  
“I thought there might have been some hope,” he mumbled, feeling the despair once more begin to rise. He had a horrifying flash of a future with Lavender shadowing his every move, and Hermione nowhere in sight. A shudder ran through him at the prospect.   
  
“I never said it was a lost cause, Ron.”   
  
Ron’s head shot up, hope springing to life once again. Lupin shook his head, laughing softly.   
  
“There is always hope that you will see the error of your ways, Ron.”   
  
Ron smiled slightly at Lupin’s words. He had seen the error of his ways. He now wanted to find some way to remedy his error.   
  
“The error is blindingly obvious,” Ron admitted, knowing the full extent of what he had done and why. “It’s fixing it that has me completely stumped.”   
  
“Look, Ron, I don’t want to know the gory details. I’ve seen you and Hermione together; your relationship runs too deep for it to be so easily destroyed. That’s obvious to anyone who has seen you together, and I’ve seen you working together in some extreme situations.”   
  
“I don’t know,” Ron said, his eyes stinging slightly as he contemplated all that had happened between him and Hermione. “We’ve argued and fought before, but nothing like this. I really pushed the boundaries this time. I’m scared that I’ve finally pushed them too far. She refuses to be anywhere near me, let alone speak to me anymore.”   
  
Ron felt Lupin’s gaze on him as he struggled to fight against the ever increasing prickling behind his eyes.   
  
“Have you ever asked yourself why?” Lupin asked him softly.   
  
Ron met his gaze, slightly confused.   
  
“Asked myself why what?”   
  
“Why she refuses to be in the same room as you?”   
  
Ron thought for a moment, never having really considered it before. He had grown so accustomed to her fleeing the room whenever he entered that he had finally accepted it as the norm without any question. She would stay sometimes, as far from him as she could get, but whenever Lavender… He glanced up at Lupin, realisation dawning on him. Maybe it wasn’t him after all. Maybe it was Lavender.   
  
“Because of Lavender, that’s why!”   
  
Lupin’s brows rose in surprise.   
  
“Lavender Brown? Why would she be the reason?” Remus asked, obviously confused by the sudden change in track.   
  
“Well,” Ron shifted slightly, “she’s currently my girlfriend.”   
  
“Really, Miss Brown?”   
  
“Yes, Lavender Brown.”   
  
“Sorry, I just never put the two of you together.”   
  
“Not many people do.”   
  
“So Hermione is keeping her distance because of Lavender?”   
  
“Well, Lavender and her fondness for, shall we say, public displays of affection. She can get a bit enthusiastic sometimes,” Ron trailed off as he realised exactly what he had just confessed to. His ears would be bright red now. He watched as Remus struggled to control his expression, knowing full well that he was fighting the urge to laugh. It was a slight improvement to the usual reactions to his and Lavender’s activities. Lately people had responded with looks of disgust or uncomplimentary remarks, most of which Ron had lately been finding himself agreeing all too readily with. She had started getting rather suffocating.   
  
“Well, that being the case, I think I can understand Miss Granger’s desire to leave the room,” the suppressed laughter was evident in his words. Ron rolled his eyes but did not protest against the truth of them.   
  
“I guess it is rubbing her nose in it a bit too much, isn’t it,” Ron finally concluded. He tried to put himself in her shoes and quickly pulled himself out again at the rush of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him at the idea.   
  
“Just a bit.”   
  
“At first I wanted to hurt like she had hurt me,” Ron stated, not really aware that he was giving voice to his thoughts. “I wanted her to feel just as hurt as I had been when Ginny told me that Hermione had snogged Viktor Krum. So Lavender became pay back in a way.”   
  
“Hermione has,” Remus paused in disbelief, “snogged, Viktor Krum?”   
  
Ron scowled at him. He had no desire whatsoever to discuss Vicky.   
  
“That’s what Ginny said when Harry and I sprung her snogging the living daylight out of Dean Thomas in the corridors.”   
  
“Ginny and Dean? I really am out of the loop,” Remus muttered.   
  
“Yeah, Ginny blabbed about Krum and I took revenge on Hermione with Lavender. Then, she attacked me with a bunch of canaries, so I paraded my new relationship in her face. We said horrible things to each other. She took McLaggen to Slughorn’s party instead of me, and now I’ve realised that I really don’t like Lavender overly much and I want this whole sorry mess fixed up.”   
  
Ron took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, the anger and hurt he had suppressed for so long had begun rising to the surface once again. He grabbed his glass and took a larger than normal gulp of Firewhiskey and coughed as it burned its way down his throat. He heard Lupin exhale and looked at him through watering eyes.   
  
“That is a-”   
  
“Complete and utter mess,” Ron finished for him.   
  
“Pretty much, yes.”   
  
“I just miss her, you know,” Ron blurted out.   
  
Lupin glanced at him before dropping his eyes and sighed.   
  
“Yes, I know exactly what you mean.”   
  
“She’s always been there, has been for years. I’d forgotten what it was like not having her in my life. Hermione and Harry have been like an extended part of me for so long now, that it feels like someone has ripped some part of me out.”   
  
He stopped as the prickling sensation started once more behind his eyes once again.   
  
“Like a part of you is missing.”   
  
Ron took a shaky breath as he met Lupin’s eyes at the sound of his soft words. The pain was back shadowing his eyes. Ron nodded in agreement, finding solace in the fact that Lupin seemed to know exactly what he was talking about.   
  
“She’s just always been there, you know. From that first day on the train, she’s always been there working her way under my skin. Even at first when I thought she was a complete nightmare I couldn’t shake seem to shake her. She just kept prodding and digging and pushing until she finally worked her way in, whether or not I wanted her to. I can’t change that now. She’s a part of me whether or not I want her to be. Today I came to the realisation that I want that now, more than anything.”   
  
He paused to take another sip of whiskey, hoping it would push down the rapidly increasing lump in his throat.   
  
“Women can be stubborn like that,” Remus muttered, his gazed locked on the tabletop. Ron was not sure Lupin had even registered that he had spoken out aloud.   
  
“Stubborn, or just plain mental; not sure which really,” Ron replied, causing Lupin to raise his eyes to meet Ron’s. The haunting pain was back in full force. They had seemed to come full circle. In what Ron was not entirely sure, but he had come to far to back down now.   
  
“Mental?”   
  
“Yeah, mental. She’s seen me at my worst and, believe me, that is not a pretty sight. She knows I’m stubborn, and insecure and lazy about school, and argumentative and sometimes,” Ron paused, grimacing at recent memories, “completely and utterly insensitive. She knows me. She knows me completely. She’s seen all my faults, but for some insane reason she looks past them all. She sees me. She sees something I can’t even see. She sees what I can be. She not only sees what I can be, but she nags me and pushes me to be that person. She stubbornly believes that I can be that person, and she won’t rest until I am. More and more I want to be that person. For the last few months, though, I’ve failed her and I’ve failed myself. I’ve become what I see in me,” his words were cut of as he found himself choking back tears. He took a shaky breath, swallowing the lump in his throat. He did not allow himself to meet the eyes across the table because he knew if he did he would never be able to continue. He needed to continue.   
  
“I’ve always felt that she deserved someone so much better than me. She deserves a bloody knight in shining armour not some poor, insecure, argumentative git who has taken far to bloody long to see what has been right in front of him all these years.”   
  
“If you love her, set her free.” Lupin’s words were barely a whisper, but they reached Ron across the quiet room. He frowned, as he comprehended them.   
  
“What if she doesn’t want to be free?” Ron asked, finally meeting Lupin’s eyes. Remus frowned in confusion, again appearing as if he had not realised he had spoken out aloud.   
  
“What?”   
  
“What if she doesn’t want to be free? What if she thinks you’re worth it? What if she decides that, despite who you are, you’re worth the risk?”   
  
Ron watched in surprise, as Lupin’s eyes appeared to fill with tears. Lupin broke their gaze and once more focused on the table between them, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to gain control on his emotions. Remus took a deep breath before once again scrubbing his face, this time in what seemed frustration.   
  
“Is the risk really worth it though?”   
  
“Is it worth the risk of never finding out?”   
  
Their eyes met again and locked. Ron was extremely aware that they were no longer talking solely about him and Hermione. Lupin had respected his privacy by not demanding any details from him, so he would show him the same respect. Ron watched as an inner battle waged within Remus Lupin, allowing his own fight to come to an end. He was tired of fighting whatever it was that continued to draw he and Hermione together. He was sick of not putting a name to it. It was too strong and powerful for him to win. He just needed to heal the gaping wound in their relationship, so they had a chance to discover exactly what it was that persisted in drawing them together. Lupin finally broke their gaze as he exhaled loudly and ran his fingers through his hair.   
  
“Like I said Ron, no one can solve these things for us,” Lupin glanced back at him, smiling ruefully. “It’s something you continue having to learn throughout life, I’m afraid. Which is why, my friend, it is important to learn from our mistakes.”   
  
Ron rubbed tired eyes, not sure whether or not he had really solved anything.   
  
“I’ve learned one thing,” he finally stated.   
  
“And what would that be?” Lupin asked, unconsciously brushing crumbs from the table.   
  
“I don’t want to settle any more. It’s not fair on anyone.”   
  
Remus froze mid-sweep of his hand before finally nodding his head in approval.   
  
“Good for you, Ron. Now you have to decide how to go about not settling.”   
  
Ron grimaced.   
  
“And we are back at the hard part again.”   
  
Lupin gave a rueful chuckle.   
  
“No one ever said it would be easy.”   
  
“Would be nice though, wouldn’t it?”   
  
“Yes, my friend, it would be nice. So how do you plan on going about wooing Miss Granger back into your life?”   
  
“I have no bloody idea. But I’ve got to believe that there is hope that I can somehow bring about the seemingly impossible.”   
  
“Ah, hope; such a deceptively harmless and sweet little word.”   
  
Ron glanced at Lupin. Despite his word seeming to be said in levity, there was a trace of bitterness behind them.   
  
“What do you mean?”   
  
“Let me tell you something, my friend. Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane.”   
  
Ron frowned slightly, not agreeing with what Lupin had just said.   
  
“I don’t know about that. Sure, hope can be dangerous, and yes it feels like it will bloody well drive you insane at times, but what would life be without it?”   
  
Lupin’s brow creased as he contemplated Ron’s words.   
  
“Pretty bloody awful,” he finally muttered.   
  
Ron’s eyes grew to the size of galleons at his former professor’s words. It was like hearing Hermione swear. Lupin glanced up at Ron and laughed at the shocked look on his face. He pushed Ron’s glass towards him and raised his own in preparation to drink one last toast. Ron raised his glass automatically, recovering slightly from his shock.   
  
“Here’s to hope then,” he said, a hint of smile tugging at his lips.   
  
“And to rectifying the error of our ways,” Ron stated firmly.   
  
Remus paused momentarily before giving a small nod and they both swallowed the remaining liquid in their glasses before setting them back down on the table. Lupin took both empty glasses and vanished them away along with the empty bottle. Ron found himself yawning and realised that he was suddenly very tired.   
  
“Time for bed, I think,” Remus stated, raising to his feet and stretching. Ron nodded and rose as well. He glanced quickly at Lupin, feeling as if he should say something. Lupin met his gaze and smiled knowingly at him.   
  
“Thanks,” he finally stated.   
  
“You are more than welcome, Ron,” Lupin said, fighting back his own yawn. Ron smiled before turning and heading for the door.   
  
“Ron,” he turned back to Lupin. “Thank you.”   
  
He smiled and nodded, turning once more to the door.   
  
“Oh, and Ron.”   
  
He turned, his hand resting on the door handle.   
  
“Don’t forget, not a word to your mother, all right. I’m on tenterhooks as it is.”   
  
Ron laughed, nodding his promise before turning to make his way quietly up the stairs, feeling much lighter than when he had made his way down. He cautiously opened the door to his bedroom, praying that Harry had turned to dreaming of Quidditch or something equally less discomforting. His room remained silent as he settled himself back into bed. He breathed out quietly as his eyes closed, as sleep began to steal over him. Hope. It might be dangerous and Ron knew that it could drive any sane bloke utterly insane, but at least it gave him a reason to keep on getting up each morning. It gave him a reason to believe that at some point in the future Hermione would once more be back in his life. He rolled onto his side, hugging his pillow to his chest, before sleep finally claimed him.


End file.
